


Professional Rivalry

by Zaeris



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaeris/pseuds/Zaeris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their encounter at the pool, Sherlock thought he'd missed his chance to learn more about his newest adversary, but then he gets an offer he simply cannot pass up. </p>
<p>Takes place after season one, but before the first case of season two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Rivalry

The lift deposited him on one of the upper floors of the ostentatious apartment building in Knightsbridge. Sherlock stepped out onto the thick woven Wilton carpet and cast an unimpressed glance at the pricey wallpaper. He'd taken three separate cabs and walked circles around London's backstreets for hours to ensure that even his meddlesome brother's lanky's at CCTV wouldn't be able to get a fix on him only to be texted an address that might as well have put him on the lawn of Buckingham Palace. He'd give the man credit for being brazen, but that wasn't quite true. Moriarty liked to play at being impulsive and unpredictable, but Sherlock knew the man better than that. This was all a planned statement, 'look how close I can get and they still can't touch me.' Oh, very good Jim, well executed. 

He stopped abruptly at the dark wood door and rapped his knuckles across it sharply. A brief pause and the door cracked open, not all the way, still being cautious, never a fool. 

“I was so hoping you'd find your way to me darling, I was starting to wonder if you'd changed your mind,” Jim said as he pushed the door open and stepped aside to allow the detective entrance. 

Sherlock just snorted at the lie, Moriarty knew he'd come, knew he couldn't not do, not after the little incident at the pool. He brushed past the smaller man, decked out in a deep blue suit, still trying to impress? The penthouse itself was spacious and well furnished. A casual observer might think that this was one of Jim's regular hideouts, but Sherlock knew better, the man was far to paranoid to maintain any residence for long and certainly not one so close to the heart of the city. Parasites, like Moriarty, belonged in the lower reaches, unobserved until their influence could no longer be ignored. 

“Security?” Sherlock asked briskly as he unwound his scarf and spun around taking in all the opened doors to rooms branching off from the main. 

“Of course pet, standard equipment, well standard for me,” he said with a wink, “in every nook and cranny except the master bedroom, my men have strict orders to keep themselves otherwise occupied unless summoned. Emergency exit to the roof, and a handful of snipers just across the way, nobody will be disturbing us.”

Sherlock nodded and removed his coat laying it across the back of a cream colored chair. Impersonal was good, this was no different than meeting an informant, except that this particular informant happened to be a brilliant psychopath who'd threatened to murder him painfully, but that detail was unimportant to the events at hand. 

“Before I agree to this I have conditions,” Sherlock said as he rounded on the man. Jim just smiled at him gleefully as he rocked back on the heels of his overpriced dress shoes. 

“Oh sweetling, you've already agreed just by showing up, but do go on, let's hear what you have to say,” Jim cooed at him with a bat of his eyes. 

“I don't want there to be any evidence that I was ever here, take whatever steps you deem prudent to those ends,” Sherlock began. Jim nodded, the manic grin still plastered to his face as he removed his suit jacked and unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs. 

“Information for information, this was your game, if you refuse to play properly I'll walk out and you and your men will let me,” Sherlock continued, his own suit jacket falling unceremoniously atop his coat. 

“Anything else?” Jim asked. His voice had gone deeper, he was losing patience and wanted to get on with it. His fingers paused over his shirt buttons in what was likely a suggestive manner, but his glance was calculated. 

“Condoms, and lube of course, I'm not a masochist,” Sherlock finished as he unbuttoned his own cuffs and went to work on the front buttons. 

Moriarty gave a high pitched giggle as he resumed undressing, “Of course dear boy, although I'm not sure you've given the masochist idea it's proper due. If only we had more time I bet I could teach you to enjoy my baser instincts.”

“Remarkably unlikely, bedroom?” Sherlock asked as he slipped off his shirt. 

“Second to the right, wine's on the side table, be a lamb and pour for us won't you?” Jim said, he slid his shirt off his pale shoulders and folded it carefully on the sofa. Sherlock loathed to enter the unfamiliar room alone, but Moriarty was tapping away at his mobile, issuing last minute orders to his men before he was indisposed, no doubt. Such a control freak. 

The wine, a red, not a favorite, was there as promised and Sherlock poured equal measures into identical glasses. The king sized bed took up the majority of the space, but there were a few tables and a wardrobe, not to mention the glass door that lead to the balcony. The curtains had been closed and the lights in the bedroom dimmed. Slipping into the ensuite he found a jacuzzi tub. Pity they didn't have enough time to make use of it. 

“Next time perhaps,” Jim called out to him as he entered the bedroom. He pushed the door closed and tossed his phone onto the table. 

“Rather presumptuous of you to assume this will happen again,” Sherlock said as he turned off the light in the loo and rejoined Jim who was sitting shirtless on the edge of the bed. The consulting criminal reached over and handed him a glass of wine and watched him from under dark eyelashes.

“Never presumptuous Sherlock, just confident.”

Sherlock snorted at that, but took a sip of the wine, at least it was a good vintage. 

“So, how do you want to go about this?” Sherlock asked setting the glass back down. Jim followed his lead and grinned up at him eagerly. 

“You do look so dammed gorgeous like this, eager, but apprehensive. I could truly just eat you up right now,” Jim purred at him. Sherlock rolled his eyes, unimpressed with the man's blatant flirting. 

“Is this meeting for business or pleasure Jim, you seem unable to decide,” Sherlock chided as he sat down next to the infuriating man. 

“Both darling, always both,” Jim leaned forward and captured his lips. Sherlock tensed for a moment then gave himself over to Jim's practiced ministrations. When a sharp tongue poked it's way against his lips he opened them easily to give Moriarty better access. A hand caressed his cheek before sliding to the back of his head, holding him in place. Sherlock found his own hands tracing careful patterns over the criminal's abdomen feeling the taunt muscles normally hidden by the expensive suites. 

They were both panting softly when they finally broke for air. Jim's brown eyes met his and there was a smile on his bruised and wet lips. 

“Trousers off, move up on the bed,” Jim said leaning forward to lick a stripe up Sherlock's neck. 

Pausing only a moment to make sense of the order, Sherlock's thin fingers found and undid his belt before moving onto his zip. When the offending garment had been dropped to the floor he slid back on the duvet and eyed his nemesis approvingly. Moriarty removed his own trousers, but took the time to carefully fold and set them down before fixing Sherlock with a predatory gaze and rejoining him on the bed. 

“How many agents in your network?” Sherlock asked as Moriarty crawled between his legs to recapture his lips. 

“Far too many to count, many don't even realize who they work for,” Jim said with a grin as he forced his tongue through parted lips once again. Sherlock brought his hands to rest on Moriarty's shoulders, pulling him in closer. God it had been too long since he'd indulged like this, he could feel his arousal already making itself known. Moriarty noticed it too and rubbed himself lewdly along Sherlock's growing length causing a needy sigh to escape from the man. 

“Why didn't you bring your little pet along?” Jim asked as he moved his attention to Sherlock's neck. 

“That's irrelevant, ask something else,” Sherlock replied. Jim's teeth bit into his skin where neck meets shoulder so abruptly that Sherlock cried out. Sherlock pushed the man away and reached to examine the wound, the skin wasn't actually broken, but it had been a near thing and would certainly leave an obvious mark. 

“What are you doing?” Sherlock demanded. Jim had rocked back on his heels between the taller man's legs and now rested his hand on Sherlock's knee. 

“Consider that a warning shot Sherlock, we're playing my game now and when I ask you a question I expect it to be answered, no matter how 'irrelevant' it may seem to you,” Jim said softly his fingers digging in where they rested on Sherlock's leg. 

Sherlock took a breath to compose himself, it was all part of the game, he hadn't followed the rules and Jim had been swift to correct him. He'd have to be much more careful if he intended this to go in his favor. 

“He would never have agreed to meeting you without backup, and certainly not for a liason,” Sherlock said evenly. Jim's fingers relaxed and his glare softened again. 

“Mmm much better, not so difficult was that?” Jim asked as he leaned forward to brush his own arousal against Sherlock's member. Sherlock relaxed again as well and reached up to pull the other man back towards him letting his hands gently caress the soft hairs at the back of Jim's head while they kissed. 

“Your second in command's name?” Sherlock asked as Jim urged him to roll over, switching their positions. 

“Haven't got one, not really,” Jim said stretching out beneath the detective and resting his arms behind his head smugly, “at least a dozen probably think they are, but none of them are cleaver like us Sherlock, none of them could hold the reins if daddy wasn't here to steer the wagon.”

Sherlock went to kiss him again, but Jim moved like a viper gripping his arm quickly. Sherlock gave him a questioning look, but Moriarty just grinned and gave a little jerk of his hips. Sherlock gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes, but scooted back on the bed nonetheless to position himself over the criminal's growing arousal. 

His musician's fingers slide carefully under the waistband of Jim's pants and pulled them low enough to free his erection. Jim lifted his hips obligingly so that Sherlock could properly remove the offending garment. Once the pants had been cast aside Sherlock caressed and kissed his way up the inside of pale yet strong thighs until he could nuzzle at the patch of dark curly hair between them. Jim reached a hand out to rest it, almost tenderly, at the back of Sherlock's head. 

“Your brother's favorite drink?” Jim asked as Sherlock leaned in to take an experimental lick along the underside of his cock. 

“Are you so desperate to put me off this that you feel the need to bring my brother into the bedroom?” Sherlock asked with a snort. Jim just smiled his sadistic little grin and gave sharp tug at the black locks of hair his fingers were twined with. Sherlock yelped, then flushed with anger and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at having to be reprimanded, yet again. 

“If he is asked he'll say Hennessy Cognac Pardis, privately he truly enjoys a Glenrothes single malt scotch, but considers it too common a drink,” Sherlock said quietly, glaring daggers into the dark brown eyes locked on his own. Jim released his hold again and smoothed Sherlock's hair sweetly. The questions were all seemingly benign, yet personal, nothing he could hack into a system to figure out, but why bother at all?

Sherlock debated momentarily just asking the man what his end game was, but quickly decided against it, not only was it a waste of a question, it made him seem stupid for not having figured it out. He required more data to work with. Resolved he took the head of Jim's cock into his mouth and rolled his tongue across it carefully. The bitter taste of pre-come was offset by a sweeter taste, possibly sweat, made heady by Jim's naturally musky scent. Times like this, Sherlock could see the appeal normal people found in regular sexual intercourse. 

Jim kept his eyes trained on Sherlock's bobbing head, his hand carding through the man's wild hair. Despite his attempt to maintain complete composure Jim found he could not remain completely silent as soft sighs and murmured words of approval found their way free of his lips. It seems he had been remiss to think Sherlock a naïve young virgin. The detective pulled off suddenly with a loud pop. 

“You took a call at the pool, what did they tell you they had?” Sherlock asked, his hand cupping Jim's bullock's and tugging at it gently. Jim's eyebrow twitched in nearly unrecognizable irritation, good, let him be uncomfortable about showing his hand. 

“A quantity of potentially useful information for some of my terrorist friends. Information your dear brother has been most adapt at concealing from me until now,” Jim replied evenly. He was trying to play it off as if it didn't matter, but Sherlock could read the tension behind his gaze. He'd wanted the detective to ask the obvious questions, 'who had called,' nothing that couldn't be glibly answered without revealing anything of import. The information wasn't enough to cause real harm, but it wasn't what he had expected. Sherlock knew he'd have to work to keep his slight advantage over the man he was currently felatiating. 

Jim shifted himself up and slide a hand under Sherlock's chin tilting his head up until their eyes met. The detective's lips were wet with a mix of their combined fluids and his cheeks were flushed from his efforts. 

“Just lovely, you've a real talent for that pet, but I'm being a terrible host, lay back and make yourself comfortable,” Jim said, his thumb running slowly over Sherlock's abused lips. Sherlock nodded once and shifted over to trade places with Jim. The criminal reached into one of the side table drawers and removed a tube of lubricant, well at least he was prepared. Sherlock let his hands rest beside him on the duvet while Jim helped him out of his pants. Sherlock found that his own neglected arousal had become quite impatient and oversensitive when Jim swallowed him down to the base without any preamble. The small man's cheeks hollowed as he sucked his way back up the shaft causing the detective to keen loudly as his hands fought grip the duvet and keep him grounded. 

“Do you ever tell John how badly you want to do this to him?” Jim asked with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows as he licked the tip of Sherlock's cock, waiting for an answer. Sherlock tried not to squirm under the gaze as he continued to wither slightly when Jim's tongue poked into his slit. There was no point in asking why Jim thought he wanted John this way, attempting to do so would potentially be met with another punishment and Sherlock was not eager to antagonize the man while his teeth were so close to such sensitive areas. No point lying either, with anyone else it might work, but not Moriarty, too risky. 

“No, it would upset him and complicate our friendship,” Sherlock panted. 

Moriarty snorted at that, but before Sherlock could be properly annoyed a lube slicked finger teased his entrance. Apparently it had been a while for Jim as well if he was wanting to escalate things so quickly. No time to play this by ear then, must jump right into it. 

“How many people besides John and I know your true identity?” Sherlock asked as the tip of a finger breached him. They both paused a moment while his body adjusted to the intrusion, before Jim pushed further in and gave his bullocks a teasing lick to distract him. 

“I'm flattered that you think I keep track, but in keeping with the game I'd have to say no more than ten in any given country, and most of those probably suspect that I'm just an agent of Moriarty's sent to test their loyalty,” Jim said as he finished his business with Sherlock's bullocks and moved back up to take his cock into his mouth again. A second finger had joined the first at some point. The two were working in tandem to stretch Sherlock out properly while curving gently in search of, oh YES. 

Sherlock jerked suddenly and pulled a fist to his mouth to keep from crying out as Jim's fingers stroked over his prostate. Jim gave a quick bite at the inside of the detective's thigh, not an admonishment, just hard enough to get his attention, “Don't hold back darling, I love to hear all your little noises,” Jim teased as he pressed over the spot again. Sherlock cried out this time, his senses were entirely overstimulated and he saw nothing to be gained from silently enduring the criminal's surprisingly effective seduction. 

The fingers withdrew and Jim clambered forward to press his lips to Sherlock's once more. Sherlock heard the distinct sound of a condom package being ripped open, well at least he'd be as safe as a man having sex with a psychopath could be. Sherlock reached down and wrapped his hand around Jim's cock pumping it to full arousal while the man whispered filthy desires into his ear. Jim eased his hand free and pulled the condom down over his length scooting back to apply a liberal amount of lube to himself. 

Sherlock shifted his hips to accommodate the man as Jim leaned forward pressing his arousal against the detective's readied entrance. He paused only long enough to blow a kiss to the man underneath him before sliding his hips forward and into the waiting heat of his nemesis. Sherlock hissed as his body stretched further to accommodate Moriarty. They both stilled, Jim sucking and licking gently along Sherlock's long neck to keep himself occupied so that he wouldn't become overwhelmed by the tight heat consuming him. 

“It's-It's fine, move now,” Sherlock said, his voice shakier than he would have liked. Fortunately, Moriarty didn't comment and instead pulled his hips back before easing them forward again in a sinfully smooth slide that had them both moaning. Jim adjusted slowly increased his pace his thighs holding Sherlock arse up for better access. 

“Your D.I. Lestrade seems rather fond of you, but his team despises you,” Jim said as he nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip. 

“That's not-not a question,” Sherlock replied, and damn carrying on a conversation was getting increasingly difficult. Jim noticed this time and grinned as he shifted the angle of his thrusts just so and found Sherlock's prostate again. 

“Which one hates you the most would you say?” Jim asked lazily. Damn him for managing to sound to composed. At least answering this question posed no difficulty. 

“Sergeant Donovan,” Sherlock said. He was rewarded by Jim taking his cock firmly in hand and pumping him along with his thrusts. Jim's fingers were still slick from the lube so he was free to set a quick pace with both. Sherlock tossed his head back his hips jerking involuntarily along with Jim's as his prostate was teased again and again. He felt his bullocks tighten and he cried out Jim's name as his release finally came. The criminal folded the taller man over himself as he leaned further in and set a punishing rhythm to bring about his own climax. Sherlock was still keening underneath him, sore and overly sensitive from his own orgasm. His hands flailed uselessly unable to decide if they should push Jim away or hold on to him. The criminal buried himself to his base and cried out wordlessly as his cock twitched out it's own release deep inside his adversary. 

They stayed like that a moment, both panting to catch their breath before Jim lowered Sherlock's arse and slide free of the man. He removed the spent condom and let it drop onto the expensive carpet with an obscene noise before crawling up to lay beside the detective. 

“Flannel in the drawer,” Jim offered as he stretched out beside the taller man to recover. 

“Thank you,” Sherlock managed to say, he rolled over slowly barely suppressing a wince, his entire lower half would be sore for a day or two, ah two, he realized as he pulled the drawer and retrieved a flannel to wipe himself up with. He discarded the soiled flannel in the same manner as Jim had the condom and rolled back to lay beside his enemy. They both lay silently as their breathing returned to normal.

“I suppose I got what I came for,” Sherlock said at last. He moved to get up, but Jim rolled toward him and captured his lips again. This part should have been over, Sherlock couldn't hide the way the corner of his mouth tugged in surprise. Jim broke off, spell broken as he noticed the detective's hesitance. 

“We could be unbeatable together, you and I could watch the whole world burn, Sherlock,” Jim said, his voice gone soft and thoughtful again his dark eyes peering into Sherlock's own. 

“You have to know you can't persuade me with promises and sex,” Sherlock said. 

“You have to know I'd still try,” Jim grinned. Sherlock pushed himself up and made as dignified an exit to the loo as he could manage. Jim snickered, but made no comment. When Sherlock finished cleaning up and redressing he found Jim waiting in the sitting room for him. The man had forgone his usual suite for a pair of comfortable black trousers and a t-shirt, he still looked just as dangerous. He glanced up from his mobile and smirked at Sherlock as the man retrieved his coat and scarf, silently praying that it hide the worst of Jim's little lovebites. With nothing further to discuss Sherlock turned to leave.

“One last question?” Sherlock asked, as his hand rested on the doorknob. 

“The game is over now pet, Daddy has work to do,” Jim replied, not looking up from his phone screen. Sherlock elected to ignore him, he'd asked all the responsible questions, this was personal. 

“Why did you invite me here, Jim? None of your questions garnered you any useful information, you gave up more than you'd intended to, but gained nothing in return. I won't flatter myself thinking it was truly about the sex, I'm sure any of your little minions would be more than happy to fill your desires, so why?”

“Oh Sherlock darling,” Jim sang happily, his eyes finally leaving his phone to meet Sherlock's once more, “when will you learn to accept this connection we have. It's like a gravity that pulls us together, our fates intertwined, our hearts beating as one.”

“You're delusional,” Sherlock scoffed. 

“Don't worry pet, you've had a busy couple of weeks, but you'll get around to figuring it out eventually,” Jim grinned. 

Sherlock gave an irritated huff and pulled the door open to leave.

“Next week?” Jim called out. Sherlock paused a moment considering before he called over his shoulder, “text me.” He pulled the door shut behind him, but he could hear Moriarty's laughter all the way back to the lift.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea I had and since I'm going to need Moriarty for another story I want to write I thought I'd get some practice with him now. Feedback is most appreciated.


End file.
